Sleeping Together Is A Euphemism For People,

You Are Built To Pull A Cart, To Lift A Heavy Load And Bear It, To Haul Up The Long Slope, And So Am I, Peasant Bodies, Earthy, Solid Shapely Dark Glazed Clay Pots That Can Stand On The Fire.

We Are Trying To Live As If We Were An Experiment Conducted By The Future

Now That I Am In My Forties, She [my Mother] Tells Me I'm Beautiful; Now That I Am In My Forties, She Sends Me Presents And We Have The Long, Personal And Even Remarkably Honest Phone Calls I Always Wanted So Intensely I Forbade Myself To Imagine Them. How Strange. Perhaps Shaw Was Correct And If We Lived To Be Several Hundred Years Old, We Would Finally Work It All Out. I Am Deeply Grateful. With My Poems, I Finally Won Even My Mother. The Longest Wooing Of My Life.

When I Work I Am Pure As An Angel Tiger And Clear Is My Eye And Hot My Brain And Silent All The Whining Grunting Piglets Of The Appetites.

It Is Not Sex That Gives The Pleasure, But The Lover.